Truth or Dare
by cduncan87
Summary: Stephanie and Lester wake up and find themselves kidnapped. Will be an eventual BABE HEA. M for language, maybe smut later on.
1. Chapter 1

AN: Popped in my head a few days ago, hope you enjoy. Will be a BABE HEA.

Disclaimer: Not mine, all belongs to JE.

"Truth, or Dare?"

Today was day ten. Another day in the middle of nowhere and another day wondering if it would be my last. I took in yet another deep breath, no longer bothering to withhold the wince of pain due to the sharp stabbing pain I received after each and every breath. I once again tried to figure out how to get out of these chains that were wrapped around my tender and sore wrists. Several times since the first day of my apparent capture I have thought to myself, "How would Batman get himself out of here?" with no results. It didn't help that now I had gone from optimistic to brutally aware that this may very well be the last place I ever lay my eyes upon. I was also quite aware of the fact that my last days on this earth would be spent with someone who I never really thought would make me want to shoot my brains out.

"Come on Beautiful, Truth or dare?" He was chained up across from me, in what I can only assume is a dungeon. It reminded me of how all the dungeons in my fairy tale books had been described; dark, dingy musty and incredibly chilling. There were the occasional rats that would sneak on by my toes, definitely my fair share of spiders and that increasingly annoying drip that was a mere foot away from my disgusting hair.

"A little hard to come up with a dare that I could actually accomplish in here, don't you think Les?" I sighed and shifted again, the nth time by now, trying to get comfortable. Trying to relieve some of the pressure that my slumped over torso kept up on my lungs. I knew without a doubt that the irritation came from a least one of my broken ribs pressing harder and harder into the left sack of air.

"Well, obviously I'd just end up daring you to take the Truth, beautiful." How he still had a sense of humor at this point was just adding to my frustration. On day five I had let the frustration get to me and had just screamed and yelled and sobbed. Lester had been quiet the whole time, allowing me to rid my body of the pent up anger. When I had finished, all he had said was, "Feel any better?" And for the first hour or so, I had.

Trying to think of ways to keep me focused and entertained seemed to be one of his top priorities. I knew that this was smart on his part: Don't let me get hysterical and batty. Don't let me go crazy. I'm sure it's one of those secret ARMY lessons, along with Being Aware of Your Surroundings. I had given up on being productive on day ten. That was when I realised that all my angers, doubts and regrets were proven futile and that I had just might as well give up since I wouldn't be getting out of here anytime soon.

"Dare." Just to be that little extra bit annoying. I still had a little spunk left; that had to account for something, right? I looked across the room towards Lester, who was similarly strung up with chains as I was. I didn't have any recollection yet of how I had been kidnapped, I assumed it was while I was asleep in my apartment, but Lester had been here since I had first awoken. He claimed to be just as oblivious as I was of our current situation, but was far more acceptable and calm.

"Shock. I dare you to answer my Truth." His voice was quite gravelly, most likely due to our combined lack of water. No one had acknowledged our presence, but someone had thrown a single food tray with a small glass of water through a slot in the large steel door once every morning. Or afternoon. It was starting to get harder and harder to decipher the hour of day or even the day itself.

It was hard to focus on his mostly shade covered silhouette, but what I could see made me cringe. His face was covered in deep purple, now yellowing bruises, and there was brown patches of flaky, dried blood along his biceps and upper torso. His left leg seemed bent at a very disturbing angle.

"How come you and Ranger still ain't doing the dirty? It's been how many years now?" I figure he got impatient with my lack of an answer before he gave up and just asked his question. I waited a minute, letting his question wash over me before I chuckled softly. The amount of times I'd heard the same question from Lula or Tank, Mary Lou or even my sister Val, although not quite so vulgar, was too many to count.

"I really don't want to discuss this right now, Les. If you hadn't noticed we're kind of trapped in some fucking disgusting basement with no hopes for escape and you want to know why I haven't fucked your boss?" The exhaustion, body aches and just pure rage was surely getting to me, if I'm swearing. God, my mother would be embarrassed.

"Seriously, Steph?" His voice took on a slightly cruel tone, "Haven't noticed? I'm fucking stuck in here with you. I've had less water than you, I've shared the same fucking disgusting excuse for food and I have a broken femur, tibia, wrist and a fucking stab wound to my lower back. Not to mention the bruises from the hour long beating I took two days before you made an appearance. I'm trying to take my mind off the fact that even coughing is nearly fucking killing me. Whatever stick they shoved up your ass, I kindly ask you to remove it."

I was stunned to silence. I could feel the burning in my eyes, their lack of hydration unable to actually build tears, and forced myself to look away. His words were only the truth but they still hurt. How could I have been so cruel? Of course he was in pain, he was probably suffering for far longer than I had, and his wounds seemed so must more intense. I felt a sudden wave of shame, and I could barely whisper my apology to him.

"Whatever." His words slicing through my last bit of perseverance seemed to just push out and I felt myself slump. I was going to die here, and all I seemed to have done was burn my last shed of hope.


	2. Chapter 2

AN: Thanks so much for the reviews so far, the prompted me to quickly finish this chapter and get it out to you. This will only be a few chapters, maybe 5 at most. Hope you enjoy.

Disclaimer: Not mine, all characters minus ones you don't recognize belong to JE.

Chapter 2.

It's been several hours since Lester and I had had our blowout. I didn't know how else to continue, I had apologised but even I didn't think that was enough. Being stuck here, I had to realise I wasn't alone. I had someone else to care for, I couldn't stay stuck in the situation. I had to regain my optimism.

"We aren't do the _dirty_ as you so eloquently put it … because Ranger doesn't want me. Not for keeps, anyways." Hearing my voice travel across the room, even I could pick up on how deep and coarse it was becoming. I heard him shuffle and heard his wince. He was probably in excruciating pain at this point.

"Come on Beautiful, you can't really believe that, can you? Ranger is the epitome of pussy whipped. That guy practically drools when you enter a room, don't get me started on how protective of you he is."

I knew what Les said had some ring of truth to it, but my thoughts were bombarded with Ranger's words, "_My love comes with a condom, not a ring. I love you, in my own way…" _ Part of me knew that at least half of the blame was on me, I constantly shuffled back and forth with Morelli. The safety of that relationship was something I was terrified of giving up. I knew in my heart, that I was never in love with him, but the fear of having nobody, of being alone for the foreseeable future … it was something I wasn't ready to face.

"I think the fact that you can't make up your mind on who's bed you'd rather be in is a pretty big factor there, Beautiful. When was the last time you went up to Ranger and told him you wanted to be with him?" Little breaks in his response, the wheezing and the strain was starting to scare me. More than what his words actually said, I was thinking our time here, together, was on a shortened span.

"What happened to you Lester? I still have no idea who grabbed us. Why the two of us? And why in God's name did they do to us what they have?" I shifted a little again, wincing at the sharp pain on the left side of my chest. The chains that I was attached to were quite short, but I was struck with an idea.

"I know your leg is pretty bad, but do you think you could shift a little closer to me? Maybe if we both move towards the middle, I might be able to reach you. I need to check your wounds, Lester." I heard him grunt in response, but then he started ever so slowly shuffling his body closer to where I was. I favored my left side as I began to inch towards the center of this dungeon. After what felt like hours, we finally reached each other. There was about two feet of space between us and the light that seemed focused on the floor in front of us afforded me a glimpse of his bad brutalized body. Moving towards his right side I lifted up his white tank top to inspect his worst wound: the stabbing of his lower back. It seemed crusted over and puffy. There was obvious infection, though mild. The blood didn't seem too badly pooled around his skin, so I hoped it had been shallow.

"When did you get this wound? What did they use? It seems almost circular." I whispered to him, his body flinching as I touched the area around it, looking to see how far the inflammation went. He muttered a response, coughed and then shifted slightly closer.

"The day before you showed up. It was a broken bottle, so I know it's not too deep. I think it was a vodka bottle? So, that's probably helping with the infection." He actually chuckled as he said that. I rolled my eyes and pulled his shirt back down. I looked next at his legs.

"How do you know what bones are broken?" I placed my hand on his leg, barely making contact. His camo cargo pants were obscuring most of his leg, but it was laying on a funny angle. I looked up to his face, making contact with his gorgeous green eyes. They seemed so empty of the lewd look they're usually filled with. I'd always had a good laugh with Lester, he never seemed to have a serious bone in his body. All laugh and play, never letting anything get to him. I was seeing a part of him I never thought existed, and that frightened me a little.

"I heard them snap with they stepped on them. The wrist was my own doing, when I punched the wall. Self-inflicted misery. I don't know for sure who these guys are, Beautiful, but I know they're not good guys. They're the worst kind. From their accents, I'm guessing either Columbian or Cuban. I can make out bits and pieces of their conversations, but there's not a lot I can make out through these walls." This was the most information he'd delivered the entire time we've been here. I hadn't even thought to pick up on their conversations. I attribute that to the fact that I still seemed drugged up until recently. I assumed that they had been putting some kind of drugs in our food until just a few days ago.

"Lester! You shouldn't have punched the concrete walls!" I admonished him as I grabbed his right hand softly, placing it in my hands. It was swollen and bruised. I clicked my tongue as I lifted it slightly to get a better look. I took off my thin shirt, receiving a grin from Lester, and used my teeth to shred first one piece and then another. Grabbing a few sticks that were around us, I started a make-shift brace for his wrist. After several winces and groans, from myself and Lester, I achieved a pathetic looking brace.

"Thanks Bomber, if the brace doesn't help, I know at least my new view will." He leered at me and winced as he shifted. I chuckled softly, at least I was wearing a very supportive bra underneath my shirt. I motioned to his shirt and he started to help me lift it over his head. We then set to making a brace for his leg. When we finally finished, this brace had taken much longer due to the breaks we had to take as the pain was getting to be too much for the both of us, I shifted to relieve the pressure that had been building on my chest.

"What about you Bomber? What injuries do you have?" He pointed to my left side, that I was favoring.

"I think just a broken rib or two, I'm assuming that they're fans of kicking." I slowly moved to lie on my back, Lester following suit. Once we lay beside each other, he shifted closer, placing my head upon his shoulder. We were both exhausted at this point, and as I felt my eyes slide shut I felt Lester grab my hand in his, clasping it tightly.


End file.
